Crescendos
by MontyTheDog
Summary: "Let's just say that people do crazy things when they're about to die." Densi. Inspired by finale spoiler.


They were probably going to die.

"We're probably going to die."

Kensi nodded in agreement, taking a swig of tequila; their celebratory drink. Cause for the toast? Imminent death, of course.

"We should make the best of our last night," Deeks decides, and Kensi doesn't disagree. She's not smiling like he is; her lips are in a tight line, expression unreadable. Her face is downcast. Her left eye is darker than usual.

He reaches for the bottle, removing it from her lax hand, watching the way her fingers fall as if they hadn't been holding onto anything to begin with.

The liquid burns his throat. He tastes strawberries on the rim of the glass.

Wordlessly, he grabs her hand. He leads her to the living room. He kisses her.

She doesn't pull away.

The intoxicating mix of warm breath, strawberry painted lips, soft brown hair, teases him. Hot skin and the smell of sex surrounds the bed they're in, making the temperature more fiery than it is outside.

It was better than he could've imagined, and when he pulled away he couldn't help but think that this was what they'd been missing out on. They were out of time. He knew that that had been the first and the last time he would ever make love to Kensi Blye, in a musty, cramped safe house, him fearing for her life, her fearing for his.

As he lay staring at the ceiling, unsure of what else to do, he hears a quiet sniffle from beside him. Kensi Blye didn't cry; not really, anyways. Occasionally a tear or two, but certainly not often. He could easily count the number of times she'd ever so much as teared up around him on one hand, much less actually cried.

He reached for her hand under the sea of blankets, waves of cloth encasing their naked bodies. She seemed somewhat self-conscious now, pulling the comforter tighter, obstructing the ocean of covers, straightening creases and creating new wrinkles all at once.

Finally, fingers were intertwined. He could feel her hand tremble in his, whether from nerves or because they'd just slept together or because of her tears, he didn't know. A mixture of the three?

His hand touching hers (which was surprisingly cold despite the temperature) made her gasp slightly, and then the sobs that wracked through her body increased in intensity, and he could see her lip quiver in the shine of the light cast by the lamp in the hallway, glowing through the slightly ajar door.

It was oddly silent, save for a few scattered cries on Kensi's part. The air was stiff, no breeze made the house creak, no traffic boomed through the walls. All was relatively motionless; Deeks even caught himself holding his breath, like a tiny exhalation would pierce their theoretical oxygen supply, suffocate them before somebody else had the chance.

He really didn't want Kensi to die. He was going to do everything in his power to ensure that she didn't.

He could not, however, change fate.

His hand found her shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissed her head.

She spoke, her voice sounding like it was about to crack, her words tectonic plates about to collide. "You can't die."

He wanted to repeat her words, put an emphasis on the 'You'. But he knew he would be getting himself into a game of, 'No, you hang up first'. He said nothing.

* * *

Bullets flew. Lead was pumped into her abdomen as she flew in front of some fired ammunition heading his way.

Bullets stopped flying.

She hit the ground.

Racing to her side, he watched with sheer helplessness as the light faded from her eyes. He tried to stop the crimson that colored her shirt, tried to prevent her from slipping anymore than she already had.

Her head dropped dangerously, suddenly. It was headed for her shoulder, but his reflexes were quicker. He caught her cheek with his palm, lifting it up. Her eyes were wide, life deteriorating rapidly from her features. He leaned forward, wishing that he could stop the oncoming storm that was death. Their jobs carried the guarantee that they would eventually die like an ominous cloud hovering over everyone who decided that they wanted that lifestyle, but really? Who wanted to constantly have death looming over them?

Deeks hadn't minded the risk. That was, until he met Kensi.

After that, he was constantly on edge. Danger was not allowed near Kensi, terminated if there was a threat as soon as possible by none other than himself. Apparently, he wasn't very good at the whole 'Knight in Shining Armor' jig.

He couldn't protect her from the inevitable.

And here they were, inevitability had made it's arrival, expected but uninvited.

He couldn't feel her breath on his mouth as he pulled away from what he assumed was their last kiss, realizing that his hands on her jawline were the only things supporting her body. He stared down at her, and though he had prepared himself, in retrospect he'd half-assed his attempts to make it easier when the day came that he lost her. Today was that day, and he realized that no amount of preparation, no number of goodbyes, _nothing_ could have made this even minutely bearable.

Arms grabbed at him, pulled him away from her. He let them take him. As far as he was concerned, he had died with Kensi.


End file.
